Dawn of Something or Other

Morning found me today. I was awake at 6:something and loving it. I relish the mornings when I'm awake and free enough from obligations to see the sun rise, to note the ever brightening layers of light, to pause before the rest of the world joins the dawn. It's rare that I have these opportunities. Today was good.

An intriguing period of late, one filled with more work than I can bare and the very real loss of work - and recompense thereof - for the other half. We'll know definitively on Wednesday.

And still I'm optimistic and content.

Transitions

The autumn has arrived, and we've all been caught off-guard.

Seemingly a week ago it was the begining of August and we were preparing for the arrivial of best friends and family and the visitation of family on their turf.

A week ago, in mid-September, the landscape was verdant green and warm. Today the sugar maple out front is a quarter brilliant red, and pockets of red and orange line the commute. In the middle of verdant green.

A hurricane approaches, Kyle, the first for Maine since Bob in '91. Oh, do I remember that one, as I was getting ready for college, and there was swimming in Eric Roy's flooded back yard. Locally, we're getting into the autumn cooking season, with a righteous black-bean soup tonight, and apple cider pork and Octoberfest on the horizon. Woodsmoke permeates and if the temps are still in the '70s, they're dropping overnight and will drop soon for the rest of the year.

It's the most wonderful time of the year. Save for the budding leaves of early May, the heat and recreation of high summer and the frigid snow-banked dead calm of winter, of course. Right now it's the most wonderful time of the year.

I'm glad to be here.

Upon Returning

We arrived at PWM around 5:15, after ten hours spent in lines, terminals and metal tubes 39,000 feet above the 45th parallel and a decent stretch of Canadian air space. Alas, our luggage decided to linger for a bit at JFK. Word is that our bag will arrive in Maine around 11:45 tonight, and will be delivered sometime, to some address, tomorrow. I hope this is the case: I'd love to get my clothes and kicks back, to say nothing of my shaving implements, and all the wife's toiletries. This, I suppose, is the price paid for a smooth series of flights free from delays - taking away free food and encouraging the American caste system in general by cramming more and more plebes into steerage with just enough leg room to probably avoid deep vein thrombosis and denying access to first class loos just isn't enough, apparently.

Ah, the glory of flight.

Seattle

I have an extra three hours of time available to me now, since it's 1:34 AM at home to my present 10:34 PM. But I don't know that the world has been set afire as a result. And since I'm waking up three hours later, it's something of a moot point. Either way, it's nice to be back in the Pac NW. East Coast reality hits me hardcore on Tuesday. Maximize the time left...

Get Me to the Airport, Put Me on a Plane

Hurry Hurry Hurry, Before I Go Insane. Couldn't make it into the cube today, thanks to a sudden and brutal cold. I've been dosing the shit out of it with Airborne, Cepacol and Aleve, (not to mention Bar Harbor Blueberry Ale) hoping to get rid of as much of it as possible before flying cross-country this afternoon/evening. Now I'm just sitting around, listening to Ani DiFranco and waiting to get going.

Next Stop: Seattle.

Coffee Break. Err...Beer Break. Errr....

One article posted, one more in the works. Simultaniously, paying client work continues at a frentic pace. House cleaning? Packing for Seattle? Laundry? All vague notions that need to be addressed, eventually. But when? And by whom? I shit-sure don't have time now. Yet I must.

I'm really looking forward to September...

Again, Pause

The hosting duties are over, the house again silent, save for those of us who live here and love it, never mind the crushing mortgage and upkeep. After a week of hosting, the jolt of returning to life as usual is incredibly hard and welcome. It will take a while to process all the mental images, snapshots worth a lifetime that we compiled over the last seven days. A meander up seaside Rt. 1, Bar Harbor and Acadia, The Yorks, Portland Head Light again and as always, insane amounts of BBQ and fresh oysters, beer and wine and love.

In seven days, we do it all over again in Seattle.